Cooperation Xposted
by ConstantContradiction
Summary: Bones/NCIS crossover. When Booth and the Jeffersonian team identify a victim as a naval officer, they have to cooperate with the NCIS A-team. But Gibbs isn't exactly known for his intra-agency cooperation, and Brennan is anything but easy to work with.
1. Chapter 1

"Male, approximately thirty years old…the remains are too badly burned to estimate a time of death from here. I'll need—"

"The remains sent back to the Jeffersonian." FBI agent Seeley Booth cut off his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan, from finishing a sentence she said at virtually every crime scene. "You heard the doctor." He told a tech to his left. "To the Jeffersonian!"

"And soil samples." Brennan reminded him, though the techs were already gathering them. "Dr. Hodgins will need soil samples." She stood up and pulled off her latex gloves.

"Yeah, Bones, I know. So do the techs. They know the drill by now."

"I didn't ask for a drill." She pulled her hair from the elastic holding it up and shook it out a little, not noticing the way Booth watched every movement.

"Uh…no, Bones, it's a saying." Booth told her, shaking himself a little. "They know proper procedure for a crime scene. Especially one of ours."

"Booth, we have no possession over the crime scene. We _work_ the crime scenes, but we don't make them, because you and I do not kill people."

"Bones." Booth sighed at her literality.

"And, as I've told you before, if I _had_ committed a murder, there would be no crime scene to investigate." She smiled at him challengingly.

"And, as _I've_ told _you_ before, I would _definitely_ be able to catch you if you murdered someone."

"No."

"Yes." His hand went to the small of her back as he guided her past some of the local police.

"You would have to find a body to even know there had been a murder." She pointed out.

"I'd find the body." He said stubbornly.

"You wouldn't know you needed to look for a body unless someone you care about went missing and you noticed their absence. I doubt I would kill someone you care about." She took a second to think about it. "I don't think anyone you would miss is on my list."

"You have a _list_?" He asked incredulously. "Bones, that's just creepy, alright? Don't say things like that out loud."

"I can think about it but not say it out loud? So should I take that to mean you also have a list, but you don't admit it?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Well, if I answered that question, wouldn't that be saying it out loud?"

"You just admitted you have a list."

"Can we please just go back to the Jeffersonian and ID the remains? Okay, Bones? We got a dead person on our hands. Let's do what we do best. Alright?" He sounded very noble.

"You're just mad I know you have a list."

But she could always knock that down.

* * *

"We had enough flesh left for a DNA sample, but just barely. We're checking with dental records as well to confirm." Camille Saroyan, an apron over her low-cut black dress, told Booth over the phone later that day.

"So who is he?"

"Michael Westland. Thirty-three years old. Naval officer."

Booth groaned. "Navy?" He asked. "Great."

"What?" Cam asked. "I know you have some Army-Navy rivalry thing, but—"

"No, no, it's not that. Now I gotta call the Navy cops." Booth sighed. "Don't tell Bones yet."

"Why would Dr. Brennan care if the Navy people are involved?"

"Because they have jurisdiction. And they're going to take the body."

"Oh." Cam chuckled. "Taking remains from Dr. Brennan before she's ready? Good luck. Have fun breaking that news to her."

"You know, Cam, I was thinking—you're her boss, you know, so maybe you—"

"Nice try, Seeley, but I'm not taking that bullet for you." With that, she hung up, still chuckling a little.

* * *

"Grab your gear!" NCIS agent Jethro Gibbs barked as he hung up his phone. His team scrambled into action, but they all paused when he didn't provide further information. He usually told them where they were going and what they were dealing with.

"Uh, Boss?" Tony DiNozzo, the senior field agent on the team—and didn't he just love to remind them of that fact—ventured. "Where are we going?"

Gibbs paused, grabbing his coffee cup before answering. "The Jeffersonian Institute."

"The museum?" Tim McGee asked, confused. He had grabbed his gun and his badge already, but he wasn't leaving without his expensive new jacket. He didn't trust that their lab whiz, Abby Sciuto, wouldn't use it for experiments. It had happened before.

"They have a forensics lab that liaisons with the FBI."

Tony stopped. "Sacks?" He asked apprehensively. Ziva David snorted. He was her partner, but there was no end to the pleasure she got in tormenting him.

"No, not Sacks. We're looking for an agent…" Gibbs squinted at what he'd written down, holding it at arm's length so he could see it. "Booth. Let's go."

He strode off to the elevator. Tony shot a glare at Ziva. "Do not _snort_ at me, Probie."

Ziva ground her teeth in frustration at the nickname. She was a new officer, technically, because her position with Mossad had been terminated, and Tony would never let her forget it.

When they got to the Jeffersonian's forensics lab, they saw a man and a woman arguing just inside the doors. From the way everyone around them went about business as usual, it appeared this was a regular occurrence.

"Bones, we don't have jurisdiction." The man was saying. "I'm sorry, but the Navy guys are going to get here, they're going to do their thing, and _we_ are going to fill out a few pages of paperwork and have a free weekend."

"They can't just take my remains!" The woman argued vehemently. "I'm not done."

"They're not _your_ remains, Ms. Possessive." His hands went to his hips. "It's a murder investigation, okay? It doesn't matter who catches the bad guys as long as someone does."

"Booth, no one will if they take the remains from me! I haven't determined cause of death. How are they going to find the murder weapon if we don't know what it was?"

"I'm sure they're very good at their jobs, Bones. I know you're a genius and all, but you're not the only person on Earth who can solve murders!"

"I am when the remains consist almost solely of bones. That is my expertise! I am the best in my field!" They were glaring at each other at this point.

"Yeah, I know. And if I ever forgot, you'd sure tell me, wouldn't you?"

Gibbs cleared his throat and they both whirled around. None of the NCIS agents missed the way the man—Booth, apparently—subtly took a step in front of the woman, putting himself ever so slightly between her and the team. Apparently, she didn't miss it, either, because she rolled her eyes.

"Booth, I hardly think I'm in any danger. If security let them in, they must be safe."

"That is not true." He shot back, not backing down. "Security in this place could really use an upgrade. I mean, all you need is a little badge to swipe and you have full access to any body on these slabs."

"We're the Navy guys." Gibbs cut in. "Here to do our thing."

If anything, Booth tensed further, though his hand stopped inching toward his gun.

"Bit touchy, aren't you?" Tony quipped. "Are you always this jumpy? Maybe you should switch to decaf."

"I am very famous." The woman said with a shrug. "Death threats are not uncommon, though Booth is a bit overzealous in his protectiveness. He has what psychologists would call white-knight syndrome, though I hate psychology. He is a strong alpha male. He needs to assert his dominance and protect those around him at all times."

The NCIS team just stared at her, but Booth, obviously used to this, scoffed a little.

"You're my partner." He said, gesturing between the two of them. "Of course I'm going to protect you." Before she could say anything else (and she was certainly going to—her mouth was opening as he turned away from her), Booth stretched a hand toward Gibbs.

"Agent Booth." He said, though they'd already caught that. "Are you Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs nodded and shook his hand. "DiNozzo. McGee. David." He jerked his head at each of his team in turn.

"This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan." Booth said, nodding toward the woman who still had her hands on her hips. Tony made an approving noise, leering slightly. He made the mistake of doing that while shaking hands with Booth and suddenly found his hand was being absolutely crushed by the FBI agent, a clear _back-off-buddy_ look on his face. Tony refused to wince.

Ziva, of course, elbowed him as soon as Booth let go, and then he _did_ wince, because she always struck true with those elbows. Jeez. No one could take a joke these days.

"You're here to take the remains?" Brennan asked accusingly.

"It's a naval officer." Gibbs said. "Naval investigation." He pointed to the NCIS emblem on Tony's hat.

"Bones." Brennan said, pointing to the forensics platform behind her. "Anthropologist." She pointed to herself. Tony chuckled. She was feisty.

"We appreciate your help in identifying the victim." Ziva said. "But we are more than capable of handling the investigation."

"I haven't found the cause of death yet." She wasn't even pleading; she was stubbornly refusing to yield.

"Could we share jurisdiction here?" Booth stepped in smoothly. "You'll be in charge, of course, but maybe Bones here could keep the, uh, well, the bones."

McGee frowned. "Why would we share jurisdiction? It's pretty clearly NCIS jurisdiction."

Gibbs said nothing, but examined the two people in front of him. Booth felt like it was some kind of test and tried not to blink. Brennan stared back at him defiantly. She wasn't afraid of some Navy investigator.

"Is your medical examiner equipped to analyze bone markings?" She asked doubtfully.

"Our medical examiner is equipped to handle anything." Gibbs said quietly.

"Certainly not as well or as fast as I could."

"Bones." Booth put a hand on her elbow and dropped his voice. "Why don't you leave the talking to me, huh? I'm working on it. It's their jurisdiction, but maybe if you ask nicely they'll let you keep playing with the bones."

"I don't _play_ with bones, Booth. I—"

"Bones, it's a joke. Please just let me handle this, okay?"

She pursed her lips. "Fine." She muttered. "You _are_ better at conflict-resolution and interpersonal communication."

"Thank you." He beamed at her and Tony felt like laughing out loud. One of _these_ partnerships, huh?

"Okay, look." Booth turned back to them, private moment with his partner over. "It's your jurisdiction. I get that. But Bones here is the best in the country—"

"World." She broke in. "I am the best in the world."

Booth sighed a little, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "She's the best in the world. She would give you her full cooperation. _And_ she'll work side by side with your ME. You could really use our help on this."

"Why both of you?" Gibbs asked.

"What?"

"I can see we need her. But we're investigators. Why do we need you?"

Booth was so taken aback he couldn't say anything. Brennan frowned. "I don't work without Booth." She said.

"So if I said you could only work on the bones without him…?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her. A muscle in Booth's jaw was clenching tightly, and Brennan was glaring.

"I would wish you luck finding the murderer with your medical examiner's limited expertise and whatever knowledge he could rustle up, most likely from Google."

Something passed over Booth's face, just for a second—gratitude? Relief? Happiness? It was there and gone so fast Gibbs didn't get a good look.

"Bones, you can work the case without me." Booth said softly.

"Of course I _can_." She answered just as quietly. "But you're my partner. I work with _you_."

They just stood there looking at each other, and Ziva felt like an intruder on a private moment. There was a lot in that look, and she actually looked away. She knew what it felt like to be _in_ one of those looks. She didn't need to look at them to know everything that was being said between them.

"We'll take you. Both of you." Gibbs interrupted their moment. "But I'm in charge of this investigation. You listen to me. You follow my orders. That clear?"

"It's clear." Booth said, though he clearly wasn't very happy about it. Gibbs could tell he was used to being in charge. "Bones, is that clear with you?"

She bit her lip. "I…will do what Booth thinks is best. If that includes doing what you ask, fine. But where your orders contradict Booth's, I'm going to go with Booth."

That look passed Booth's face again, and this time, Tony saw it. Oh, yeah. Definitely one of those partnerships.

Gibbs fought a smile. "I can respect that."

"You can?" McGee asked. "Even if she doesn't do what you want?"

"Rule number one, McGee." Gibbs said, leaving Booth and Brennan bewildered.

"Never put suspects together?"

"The other rule number one." Tony supplied. "Never screw over your partner."

"I like that rule." Booth murmured to Brennan.

"Wait 'til they hear number twelve." Tony whispered to Ziva with a laugh.

Gibbs extended his hand to Booth. "Welcome aboard."


	2. Chapter 2

"Our ME's got the truck out front to pick up the body." Gibbs said after snapping his phone shut.

"Why?" Brennan asked, irritated.

"Because it's our investigation." Tony broke in. This woman would _not_ let it go.

"If we're doing a joint investigation and this is my area of expertise, why can't we leave the remains here? All my equipment is here."

Gibbs paused. "I'm sure whatever equipment you need is in our autopsy room, too."

"I doubt that." Brennan argued, Booth looking on worriedly like he was about to experience a train wreck. "The Jeffersonian is one of the most cutting-edge labs in the nation. We have some very specialized tools. You're funded by the government, who is not known for providing its public service personnel with the best technology."

"NCIS has first-rate technology." Ziva said. McGee made a quiet noise of dissent, and Brennan raised an eyebrow.

"McGeek's just mad he doesn't get one of those touch screen things the LA field office has." Tony said with a shrug.

"I'm just saying," McGee defended himself with a glare in Tony's direction. "We may not be the most technological lab in the DC area."

"And we very possibly could be. I need _my_ equipment for these remains."

"Okay, you are very proud of your doctorate and your remains, but this is an NCIS investigation." Tony had had just about enough. "This"—he pointed to Gibbs—"is our boss. We do what the boss says. And if the boss says Ducky takes the body, Ducky takes the body."

"Precisely what I'm here for, Anthony." Brennan and Booth turned to see a short, older man wearing an NCIS jacket striding toward them, a younger man dressed similarly on his heels. "Mr. Palmer, you do not need to follow me _quite_ so closely. You are not a puppy."

"Sorry, doctor."

"This is your medical examiner?" Brennan asked, not hiding the incredulity in her voice. "He cannot possibly possess the expertise I do."

"Bones." Booth gave her a look that said she shouldn't say those types of things out loud.

"Oh, hello." Ducky came over and extended his hand to Brennan. "I'm Dr. Donald Mallard. You're Dr. Temperance Brennan, are you not? I've long been fascinated by your work, especially your technique in reverse-moldings to identify types of bullets. And your work in Maluku was certainly a large step for anthropologists everywhere."

Brennan looked a little taken aback. Not many people flattered her after she insulted them. "Thank you." She said faintly, after a poke from Booth.

"Ah, yes, and you must be her FBI partner, Agent Booth. You know, I greatly admire a man such as yourself who is so willing to put himself in the line of fire repeatedly for his partner." He took Booth's hand and shook it, too, while Booth smiled despite himself. He knew the guy was buttering them up so he could get the charred bones, but he couldn't help but like it just a little. And everything just seemed more flattering in a Scottish accent.

"Please call me Ducky." The older man went on. "Everyone does, and Dr. Mallard is such a mouthful."

"Duck." Gibbs said. "Enough with the pleasantries. We got a murderer somewhere out there."

"Actually, we don't know if that's true yet." Brennan clarified. "We haven't found cause of death yet, so we can't be sure it was murder."

"He was set on fire." McGee said. "Isn't that a pretty good indicator?"

"Look, I don't know how NCIS runs things," Booth immediately jumped to his partner's defense, though he was thinking the same thing as McGee. "But here at the JeffBI we don't jump to conclusions."

"I asked you not to shorten our liaison like that." Brennan muttered, ignoring Tony's snort of appreciation. "It sounds juvenile."

"I hate saying FBI-Jeffersonian or Jeffersonian-FBI or the FBIs liaison with the Jeffersonian Institute. Would you rather I call us the dynamic duo?"

"What would the deputy director say if he heard you call us the JeffBI?"

"I know you like it, Bones. Don't fight it. Just let ol' Seeley Booth come up with more nicknames."

"I'm going to start calling you Shoes again." She was practically sticking her tongue out at him.

"They're not shiny anymore."

"I don't—"

"Uh, who are all these people?" Angela Montenegro came out of her office with a paper in hand to find quite a crowd gathered at the bottom of the forensic platform.

"NCIS." Tony said smoothly, sliding past McGee to shake Angela's hand. "I'm _very _Special Agent Tony DiNozzo."

"And I'm _very_ married and _very_ pregnant Angela Montenegro." Angela shot back with a smile.

"Ah." Tony looked chagrined as McGee and Ziva laughed.

"These are the NCIS people." Booth told her. "Navy investigators."

"They're trying to take my remains." Brennan added.

"We are _trying_ to do our jobs." Ziva said through clenched teeth.

"Your job includes hijacking Bren's remains?" Angela snorted. "Good luck."

"Jethro, I see no reason we can't work out of this lab. It's certainly more high-tech than our humble autopsy." Ducky said. "And I would be delighted to see Dr. Brennan work in her element."

Gibbs frowned at Ducky. "Our investigation, Duck."

"Yes, NCIS has jurisdiction here, I understand that, but their equipment is better, and I was under the impression this was a _joint_ investigation. I know you, Jethro, and you're trying to manhandle this from a joint investigation to an NCIS investigation with help from the FBI and Dr. Brennan. You can be in charge of the investigating, but why don't you let us doctors handle our end from here?"

Booth frowned a little, because he still wasn't thrilled about being relegated to minion status for some has-been investigator. The only reason he was agreeing to this joint investigation was to keep the remains at the Jeffersonian. He shook his head at Brennan. The things he did for this woman.

Ducky didn't exactly wait for Gibbs to reply. "Now, then, Dr. Brennan, if you'd be so kind as to indulge an old man the pleasure of seeing your lab?"

"It's not specifically _my_ lab." Brennan admitted.

"That's the first thing she hasn't claimed." McGee muttered, earning himself a glare from Booth. It was a bit stronger than the (mostly) fake-glares Tony gave him, so McGee felt his smirk slip a few notches, but he'd learned to hold his own. He wasn't the sniveling probie anymore. Most of the time.

"It mostly is." Angela told everyone. "The rest of us are here to Brennan's bidding."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Montenegro." Ducky said smoothly, taking her hand. "You have the glow of a happy woman, waiting to meet her beautiful child."

"And _you_ are quite a charmer, aren't you?" Angela laughed. "I like it."

"Alright, alright." Booth said. "Can we get this show on the road? Squints get to squinting, cops get to copping. Right?"

"Booth, 'copping' does not mean what you think it means." Brennan told him. "To cop, as a verb, means to catch or steal, as in 'copping a feel', usually of someone's body part you should not be touching, such as the buttocks or—"

"Jeez, Bones! I know, okay? I know what copping a feel is."

"Well, you used it incorrectly." The way Brennan said it gave the NCIS agents the impression this happened often.

"Please go show the medical examiner around. Okay, Bones? Please?"

Brennan, Ducky, and Palmer made their way up the stairs to the forensic platform. Angela called after them, "Let me know when the skulls ready for me, Bren!" before disappearing to her office. Booth suddenly found himself alone with the NCIS Major Case Response Team. He felt awkward. Why did he feel so awkward? People were his thing, right? Maybe it had something to do with the smirk Tony was shooting him, the glare Gibbs was wearing, or the way Ziva was assessing him like he was a piece of meat. A month ago, Booth would have been irritated with the way she was looking at him, because a month ago he was in a committed, serious relationship with Hannah—_and he was happy, he was happy, he was happy, he kept telling himself how damn happy he was with her_—and wouldn't even think of another woman. Before Hannah, Booth would have been flirting with Ziva. She was beautiful, obviously independent, strong, and capable—pretty much his MO.

But he'd proposed to Hannah, she'd shot him down, and he wasn't feeling up to climbing back into the saddle. He was a bit saddle sore, to keep up the analogy, and every time a beautiful woman looked twice at him the only thing he could feel was exhausted.

"We're going back to NCIS headquarters." Gibbs told Booth. "You coming or you want me to send you anything we find?" It was a challenge. He was testing to see if Booth would stick with the investigation. Booth fought a sigh. This was going to be a long case.

"Let me grab Bones." He said. "We'll come with you."

"Doesn't she need to do stuff with the body? I mean, wasn't that what this whole joint jurisdiction thing was about?" Tim looked slightly miffed. They'd already spent over forty-five minutes sorting out this mess, and now she was just going to leave the body sitting there?

Booth shrugged. "The bones gotta go through some…cleaner thing. To get all the rest of the flesh off. She might use beetles, because they're sort of her favorite. It takes a while." He took a few steps toward the platform. "Bones!" He called. "Come on! We need to go to NCIS. Chop, chop!"

"Right now?" She came to the edge of the platform with her hands on her hips. "I was just telling Dr. Mallard about bone storage. He wanted to see it."

Gibbs snorted, and Booth frowned at the sound. He didn't want anyone thinking they weren't serious about their job. "Possible murder, Bones. Remember?"

"Right. Of course. Let me just tell Mr. Bray to get the bones cleaned." She turned to Ducky. "Dr. Mallard, I'm afraid I'll have to show you our bone storage some other time. Booth and I need to investigate a potential murder."

"You need to _help_ investigate a potential murder." Tony corrected in a mutter.

"Your doctor always investigate the murders?" Gibbs asked.

"She's my partner." Booth said simply.

"It's what we do." Brennan agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** I should probably do some explaining. I know, I know, we're three chapters in and I'm just now explaining? Sorry. Anyway, I just wanted to explain that this is primarily a Bones fic with the NCIS characters involved, which is why I cross-posted it to the Bones board as well as the cross-over section. I love both shows an unhealthy amount, but the story came to me from a Bones angle, so that's where we're going. I'd also like to say that though I'll try my hardest, I'm not a doctor or an investigator or a forensic anthropologist. I do research what I'm writing, but I don't have massive amounts of time to do so, so I'd be very grateful if any of you readers could point out any mistakes you notice, be it inaccuracies with the characters or something in the jargon. Thanks. :)

* * *

"No wife, no kids, no girlfriend to speak of." Ziva reported after sitting down to her computer for barely a minute. "Petty Officer Westland has one brother, a Jonathan Westland. He lives in Quantico. His commanding officer is Captain Joseph Samuels, stationed in Norfolk."

"Go to the CO. Take DiNozzo." Gibbs commanded. They were gone in seconds.

Brennan and Booth were standing rather awkwardly in the middle of the bullpen, unsure of where to go or what to do. On top of his awkwardness, Booth felt irritation rising in his throat at being crowded out of the investigation.

"I'm going to go talk to the brother." Gibbs announced. "McGee, bank records, phone records, everything."

"On it, Boss."

Gibbs strode away, then stopped. "Coming?" He asked. Booth and Brennan hurried to catch up. "No." He pointed to Booth. "You, come." He pointed to Brennan. "You, stay."

"What?" Booth asked. "No. That's not how it works."

"I investigate." Brennan said.

"Okay. Investigate here."

"What am I supposed to investigate here?" Brennan asked, frustrated.

"You'll figure it out." Gibbs called over his shoulder as he continued his path to the elevator, pausing when he realized Booth wasn't following. He came back and stood toe-to-toe with the younger man.

"I'm in charge here. You want to stay on this investigation? You do what I say."

"Bones is my partner. I don't leave my partner." Booth said stubbornly, ignoring the Gibbs glare.

"You want to stay and play grab-ass with her, fine, but you go back to the FBI and we drop the joint part of this investigation."

"Booth has never grabbed my ass." Brennan interjected. "Well, he did slap it once, but we were under cover. It didn't count."

"It's an expression, Bones." Booth turned his attention back to Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs, is there a reason you're so intent to cut the FBI out of this investigation?"

"Booth, it's obvious this is simply a clash of alpha-males. You are both used to being the most dominant in your social group, and no herd can accommodate two head males. A battle to the death will eliminate the problem."

Gibbs fought the urge to laugh despite how tightly his jaw was clenched. Where did they find this woman?

"We are not having a battle to the death, Bones. We're federal agents. There's no reason we can't resolve this."

"I'm heading this investigation. The only way to resolve this is to do what I say." Gibbs refused to yield, and Booth clenched his fists at his sides. _Breathe, Seeley_. He reminded himself. _Violence is not the answer. You don't want mandatory sessions with Sweets about anger management._

"Booth…" Brennan stepped closer to him and laid a hand on his arm, speaking softly. "There is no reason for you not to cooperate. I'll be fine here."

"You're my partner." Booth sounded almost desperate.

"And I'll still be your partner when you get back." She told him, tapping a finger on his arm. "You know I can take care of myself when you're not around to do it for me."

"This is touching," Gibbs broke in gruffly, fighting memories of a younger version of himself in Paris with a partner he didn't want to leave. "But we have a murder to solve."

Booth and Brennan locked eyes, blocking out NCIS and the team leader who apparently hated them. Brennan nodded once at him and Booth sighed.

"Call me if anything happens. And if anything _does_ happen?" He gave McGee his harshest death glare. "No one in the United States government will be able to stop me."

Brennan rolled her eyes at Booth's retreating back. "I would appreciate if you did not take your frustrated alpha-male tendencies out on me." She called. "Urinating on me would serve the same purpose as your words."

Booth shook his head but didn't turn around. He and Gibbs disappeared into the elevator. Brennan and McGee looked at each other awkwardly for a minute before Brennan grabbed Tony's chair and pulled it over to McGee's desk.

"Show me how you investigate here." She ordered. McGee raised an eyebrow, and she added, "Please?"

* * *

Almost the second the elevator began to move, Gibbs hit the emergency stop. The lights switched off and the elevator lurched to a stop.

"Something wrong?" Booth asked, already tensed for a fight.

"We can't have a pissing match with every decision." Gibbs declared. "We gotta straighten this out right now if we're going to go on."

"Look, I did what you wanted, didn't I?"

"You can't fight me every step of the way."

"Yeah? Well, you don't need to assert your dominance every step of the way, either." Booth's eyes widened just the tiniest bit. He'd been spending too much time around Bones and her squint-talk. "You want me to do something?" He plowed on, ignoring his anthropological moment. "You can talk to me like I'm your equal, because I am."

"Not treating you any different from the rest of my team." Gibbs said.

"I'm not on your team. I'm on my own team. Me and Bones, we're a team. And right now our teams have to work together, but that doesn't mean I'm on your team."

They glared at each other for a long minute, inches apart, both refusing to blink first.

"And I do not appreciate being separated from my partner." Booth added.

"You two got separation anxiety?" Gibbs asked.

"There aren't many people Bones and I can trust." Booth admitted softly, finally looking away. "Not even other federal agents."

Gibbs studied Booth for a beat before speaking. "Someone hurt her?"

"Lots of someones." Booth ran a hand through his hair. _A dirty FBI agent. A serial killer. A doctor covering up murder. Her own damn family_. He didn't say any of it out loud, because he still didn't wholly trust Gibbs. He shrugged. "I'm supposed to protect my partner."

Gibbs nodded. "McGee won't hurt her." He promised solemnly. "None of my team will. I can promise you that much."

Booth was caught off-guard. He'd expected a lecture about how he shouldn't feel guilty for things that were out of his control, or how he needed to trust other people, or at least that he should let Bones take care of herself. But Gibbs seemed to get it.

"You take care of your own." Gibbs said with a shrug, turning the elevator back on.

* * *

"Why does he call you Bones?" McGee asked. They were waiting for a search of Petty Officer Westland's phone records to show oft-repeated numbers.

"I'm a forensic anthropologist." Brennan answered, trying to pay attention to whether or not she was being condescending. She was pretty sure she was. "Bones are my specialty. At first I resisted it. It isn't my name."

"You don't like nicknames, either, huh? Tony still calls me Probie. I hate it."

"You shouldn't." Brennan said matter-of-factly. "A nickname is a sign of increased intimacy. He wouldn't give you a nickname if he didn't like you."

McGee thought of all the different nicknames Tony had given him. "It doesn't seem flattering."

Brennan shrugged. "Neither does Bones, but I know it's a sign of affection."

McGee snorted. "Well, _yeah_. We can _all_ see it's a sign of affection."

"I believe your tone implies more than your words say; however, I don't know what you're saying."

"Um, you and Agent Booth…you know…we can all tell." McGee tripped over his words under her fierce eyes.

"You can all tell what?"

"That you're…" He trailed off, thinking Brennan would jump in and save him. No such luck.

"That we're what? Partners?"

"Very close." McGee supplied.

"We have saved each other's lives many times. We have seen horrible things and solved crimes together." Brennan tilted her head. "I'm sure you know the kinds of bonds that creates."

"Right. I do. It's just, well, aren't you and Agent Booth, um, you know…" He bit his lip and decided to just take the plunge. "Together?"

"We are almost always together." Brennan answered, still mystified. A proverbial light bulb went off in her eyes. "Oh, are we together sexually?" McGee gulped at her terminology but nodded. "No. Booth and I have never engaged in intercourse. Until recently he was in a very serious relationship with a woman named Hannah."

McGee couldn't help but gape. Not together? Their sexual tension rivaled Tony and Ziva. Possibly beat it, because he never _could_ be sure Tony and Ziva hadn't actually already done the deed. There was that undercover operation, after all, that was still a big question mark in every NCIS agent's mind.

His computer _ping_ed, allowing him to change the subject. "Hmm…looks like Westland was making a lot of calls to this number until about six months ago, when he began his deployment on the USS Normandy." He ran a search on the number and came up with the ID almost immediately.

"Petty Officer Whitney Jacobson." Brennan read aloud.

"She was stationed on the ship with him. The ship returned to port two weeks ago."

Brennan frowned. "The level of decomposition of the body suggests a time of death about two weeks ago."

"So he could've been murdered the night they got home."

"You shouldn't leap to conclusions." Brennan scolded. "We're still not positive it was a murder, though I feel comfortable assuming there was at least a cover-up. I should call Booth."

"I should tell Gibbs first."

Brennan narrowed her eyes as she pulled out her phone and hit speed-dial. "We'll see who answers first." She challenged, knowing Booth would answer on the second ring. He didn't disappoint.

"Bones, you good?" He asked.

"I am good at many things, Booth." Brennan answered, confused.

"Are you alright?" He clarified.

"I'm fine, Booth. Listen—"

"Boss, it's McGee—"

"The victim was calling a woman a lot!" Brennan started rushing her words to get them out before McGee. "Her name was Whitney Jacobson!"

"—Whitney Jacobson." McGee finished half a second behind her and she shot him a gloating smile. He made a face.

"They were on the boat together." Brennan told Booth.

"They were deployed together?" Booth asked.

"When'd they get back?" Gibbs asked.

"Two weeks ago." McGee answered.

"The time of death is most likely around then." Brennan said.

"This is giving me a headache." Gibbs muttered as he hung up on McGee. Why did he always end up working with competitive five-year-olds?

"Thanks, Bones. Did you find that out? I didn't think you knew how to search phone records."

"I haven't had much experience with it, since the FBI technical analysts usually do that, but Agent McGee is showing me how to do some of the computer things."

"That's my girl, always learning new things." Booth grinned widely.

"Booth?" Brennan wanted to say something to him before they hung up, but not with McGee listening in. She turned her back on him and took a few steps away, keeping her voice low. "I find working without you to be unsatisfactory."

Booth's smile got bigger, as if that were even possible. "I know, Bones. I miss you too." He said it as a half-joke, since it had barely been half an hour since they'd been apart, and a half-truth, because he knew what she meant. Working a case with other people wasn't the same.

"Oh, please." Gibbs snatched Booth's phone from his hand. "Pull yourselves together," he barked into it, then ended the call.

Brennan frowned at the phone. "Your boss is not very pleasant." She told McGee.

McGee snorted but didn't dare agree with her. Gibbs would find out somehow. He just _would_. His phone rang, and he could hear Abby's excited voice before he even got the phone to his ear.

"Okay, Abby, I'll come right down." He stood up and gestured with his head. "Our forensic analyst's got something."

Brennan couldn't help but stare when she met Abby. For one thing, there was Abby's clothing. And chains. And pigtails. Then there was the way she was talking—it seemed like she wasn't taking any breaths, but she was saying so much. Brennan was astounded by this woman's lung capacity. Her ears were also being assaulted by some strange form of music. Brennan had enjoyed the Tibetan throat singers more than she enjoyed this.

"—so the fire was _definitely_ on purpose." Abby finished with a grin, then turned to stare at Brennan. "Who are you?"

"Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian." Brennan recited automatically. "I am a forensic anthropologist—"

"And you work with the FBI! Timmy and I love your books." Abby said, making McGee turn slightly pink. "What? There's nothing to be ashamed of." Abby told him.

"She's right. Millions of people love my books. It's how they became best sellers." Brennan shrugged and Abby laughed.

"I like you." She declared.

"Thank you." Brennan responded uncertainly. Not many people liked her, especially when they first met her. "Can you trace the accelerant used on the body?"

"It's pretty standard stuff." Abby started clack clack clacking away on her keyboard. "I'm still running it through Major Mass Spec to see if there's anything unusual about its chemical makeup, but if not it's going to be a lot harder to track down."

"I need to find cause of death." Brennan said, checking her watch. "The bones won't be de-fleshed yet." She sighed, frustrated. "I usually don't have to sit around and wait during this part. Usually I'm with Booth, notifying the victim's families and investigating. This is…" She didn't say the word threatening to spill from her lips—_boring_.

"Booth, huh?" Abby wiggled her eyebrows up and down. "Your inspiration for Andy."

"No." Brennan was getting tired of defending herself to everyone who had ever read her books. "Andy is fictional. Booth is real. They are not related. No one ever believes me."

"I believe you." McGee offered, prompting Abby to roll her eyes.

"He only believes you because he writes novels based on real life, too, and he's always denying he put all of us in his book."

"You write crime novels?" Brennan asked, raising an eyebrow at McGee. His ears were very red at this point.

"He's Thom E. Gemcity." Abby said flippantly as she turned back to her computer. If they expected Brennan to know who they were talking about, they were barking up the wrong tree. She could tell she was supposed to say something, but she didn't know what.

"Who's your publisher?" She asked after a slightly too-long pause.

"We…have the same publisher." McGee was clearly horribly embarrassed, and she did feel a little guilty. He was a nice man. "Our publishing companies combined after your publisher…"

"…was murdered in the same fashion as my book." Brennan finished matter-of-factly.

"You know, that happened to McGee, too." Abby butted in. "And then the murderer was going to murder _me_ because I thought I was Amy from the books and had broken Agent McGregor's heart."

"I had never considered the possibility of mentally disturbed people thinking my books were true and having personal feelings about the characters' actions." Brennan sounded apprehensive.

"Oooh, are you planning something for Kathy and Andy? Something that might make people upset? Your fans are _dying_ for them to cut the casual sex thing and make some commitments to each other. I mean, anyone reading the books can see they're made for each other." Abby

"No one is made for anyone." Brennan replied quickly.

"Technically, Andy and Kathy _are_ made for each other." McGee pointed out. "You wrote them. They're together. Made for each other." He shrugged.

"Okay, fictional characters may be made for each other. But real people are not."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks…" Abby murmured, earning her a frown from Brennan.

"I don't see what Hamlet has to do with anything."

"Never mind." McGee broke in quickly. "We're going to go talk to Whitney Jacobson and see if something was going on between her and Westland."

"Are you good at reading people?" Brennan asked.

"What?"

"I am not very adept at understanding people's tone, body language, perspiration, and other tells of lying or ulterior motives. That is an area in which Booth's expertise exceeds my own. I've come to rely on him, and since your boss would not allow us to work together, I'll have to rely on you to read this Whitney Jacobson. Are you up for the task?"

"Uh…" Though McGee had gotten much more confident in his abilities as a field agent, Brennan's admission that she'd be relying on him made feel a bit pressured.

"Hm." She studied him with her lips pressed together. "I can tell you're hesitant, which supports my theory that you will not be as effective as Booth. Obviously I'll have to try to compensate for that lack in our questioning."

"I…" McGee wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not.

"Don't worry; I don't hold others to the same standards to which I hold myself, and it's becoming more apparent to me every day that I can't hold others to the standards to which I hold Booth, either."

"McGee's a good agent." Abby defended her friend, though she knew McGee wasn't always the best at reading people, either.

"Thanks, Abs." They shared a smile.

"We should go." Brennan interrupted their moment. "We need to hurry with this questioning so I can get back to the bones as soon as they're free of flesh."

"Oh yes," McGee muttered. "I'd hate to keep you from your de-fleshed bones."

* * *

**AN 2:** Next chapter we'll get some Tony/Ziva bickering. After all, they've got quite a drive, and we all know arguing is inevitable for them. We'll also get some Brennan/Ziva interaction, which I am very excited to write!


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